


like puzzle pieces from the clay (or, four times the boys loved each other in past lives and once in this lifetime)

by wednesdays



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Character Death, M/M, Past Lives, soulbond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 17:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesdays/pseuds/wednesdays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it was always inevitable that the five of them would end up together, somehow. they have been this way before, and they'll be this way again.</p>
<p>(written for this^ prompt on the kinkmeme)</p>
            </blockquote>





	like puzzle pieces from the clay (or, four times the boys loved each other in past lives and once in this lifetime)

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from 'such great heights' by iron and wine
> 
> written for a prompt on the kinkmeme

i.  
'master louis.' louis turns his head lazily, eyeing the timid looking guard standing in front of him. he's clad in heavy armor and an aura of fright, which louis can't help but smirk at. 'excuse me for interrupting, but the slave master is here.' louis sighs dramatically, rising from his throne. he waves his hand at the small crowd of guests in the throne hall, allowing them leave as he exits the spacious room with the guard.

the extravagant halls are empty and silent, his barely inaudible footsteps and the guards armor clanking the only sounds in the corridor. the guard leads him to the main hall, where a fat, bearded man stands, his hair slicked back and face blotchy. he bows low when louis enters, a mumble of 'your highness' escaping his lips. louis merely nods at him, pulling his expensive robes about himself.

'what have you brought me today?' he questions. the slave master offers a toothless smile, indicating his hand towards the front door. a burly man enters, dragging a chain behind him, to which a few beautiful men are attached by their bound wrists. they vary in shape and size, a tall, extremely dark man at the lead, and a short, ginger boy bringing up the rear. 

'only the finest for you, your majesty.' the slave owner says quietly, smiling as louis eyes them all appreciatively. he saunters down the line, reading the planks of wood sitting on their chests, bound around their necks like necklaces. they read where the slave is from, and their abilities, and names. he likes them all, he thinks, finding this particular group of slaves to all be pleasing to the eye.

one in the middle catches his attention, though, his hair dark and thick, skin tanned and body lithe. louis thinks maybe he would look good under liam's larger body. there are a few ebony tattoos inked on his flawless skin and louis smiles at the unfamiliar language printed on his jutting collarbone. harry would match those inklings nicely. his face is angular and eyes sharp, long lashes accentuating them. niall's pale lashes and oval, boyish face would contradict this slave gorgeously. his plank reads 'zayn-pakistan-able bodied and witty', and that's enough for louis.

'i'll take him.' he says, the burly man at the front immediately unhooking 'zayn' from the rest of the men. 'take him to my chambers and summon the others. i'll be there momentarily.' he says to the guard who brought him. zayn looks impassive, letting the guard manhandle him towards the grand stairs. louis smirks, watching his swaying, svelte hips as he ascends the stairs. 

'thank you, sir.' the slave master bows at him. 'as for the price we discussed-'

'ah, of course.' louis nods, indicating for the man to follow him. after handing the slave master his due pay, he nods him out. he steps up the stairs, following the halls to his wing of the palace. entering, he hears a multitude of voices coming from his bedroom, melting into each other and sounding almost as if from a chorus, high pitched and low pitched with different accents. he goes into the bedroom, seeing a huddle of slaves in the center of the room, bodies tightly knitted together.

he spots shadowy designs etched into golden skin the center and reckons zayn must be in the middle of his concubines. he clears his throat and green eyes look over, his eyebrows raising and pouty lips stretching into a smile. he nudges and whispers the lot of them until they're quiet and their eyes are on him, all different colors and shades. 

his green eyed slave, harry, has his arm wrapped around zayn's narrow hips and louis can't help but notice how much it looks like it belongs there. niall has one hand gripping harry's free one and the other by his side. he has a hip cocked out, his bleached hair messy and face flushed. the muscular right arm of liam is around his neck, his hair neat and tawny eyes bright. 

they all meld together, slipping into each other like intertwining vines, all different skin tones and hair colors and body shapes and louis thinks it's beautiful and maybe meant to be.

ii.  
zayn's just finished outlining a man's muscular arm on his canvas when harry barges in, his curls flying this way and that, a large smudge of charcoal across his cheek. zayn merely raises an eyebrow, silently asking 'what in zeus' name is going on'. harry huffs, placing his hands on his hips.

'louis' being insufferable.' he complains, throwing himself on zayn's lounge couch. zayn rolls his eyes, going back to his sketch.   
'you say that all the time,' he reminds his - well, he's not quiet sure what harry is to him. part lover, part friend, part grecian statue whenever zayn needs motivation, really. 'and you always get over it and keep me up at night with your irritatingly loud make up sex.' harry blushes a pretty shade of rose pink and zayn thinks of adding it to his sketch, on the unfinished man's strong cheeks. 

'well, this time he's being extra ridiculous. i mean, how was i to know i wasn't supposed to read that sonnet? it's not like it was hidden somewhere, it was on the table!" he throws his hands up, trying and failing to look indignant. zayn sighs softly, turning from his man's drawn fingers to lean towards harry, who's beginning to look truly upset.

'well, just apologize to him, and he'll have to get over it. you know how much he can overreact.' zayn replies, seeing harry's face relax, then change into a pout. he stands up, brushing off his pale white robe.

'fine. don't forget to pick up niall from the temple, you know how he doesn't like coming home by himself.' harry says, leaving the room with the swish of his billowing robes and frizzy hair. zayn stands and stretches, glancing at his portrait and wondering why it looked so familiar.

slipping on his sandals, he leaves the house, heading straight into the bustling city. people haggle over their wares, small, barely clothed children slipping in between their legs, laughing and playing. zayn barely passes the mathematician's building before bumping into someone, an apology slipping out of his lips on instinct. his mouth dries, however, once he spots who he ran into.

liam, a wise, young, inconceivably handsome mathematician is standing there, smile crooked and hair disheveled. his hand is grasping zayn's arm to keep him upright, and zayn can't help but admire his sun kissed, brawny arm coming from his robes. he realizes the arm looks rather familiar, and feels heat creep up his neck when he remembers it's the arm he was drawing not ten minutes before.

'oh, i'm sorry,' liam says, his eyes crinkling at the sides. 'i wasn't watching where i was going.' zayn shakes his head, blushing even harder when liam makes no attempts to release his arm.

'it's fine, really.' zayn stutters out, wondering when liam became his muse. liam smiles at him for a moment before letting go of his forearm, straightening out his robes. zayn scratches his head awkwardly, thinking desperately of something, anything to say, when liam saves him.

'actually, i was hoping to run into you. well, not like that,' zayn manages a steady chuckle. 'but i wanted to ask you about that painting in the temple. someone told me you painted it, and i was wondering if it were true.' zayn nods, grinning gently.

'yes, i painted it.' he replies. 'louis kind of forced me to put it in the temple, though.' liam laughs and zayn flushes, proud of his mild accomplishment.

'well, it was a fine piece of art. you'll have to show me more sometime, yeah?" and he's gone before zayn can comprehend it. he walks dazedly to the temple, a huge smile crawling on his face. by the time he gets there, he frightens niall with the intensity of his radiant grin.

'gods, mate, enough with that, you look insane.' niall comments, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 'what are you so excited about, anyway?" he asks. zayn blushes.

'oh, nothing.' but he knows it's something and it makes him grin all the more.

iii.  
liam pulls gently at his tight collar, feeling extremely stuffed in his fitted suit especially made for this party. this particular party was the annual ball his parents held in his father's business' accomplishments, where anyone who was anyone was in attendance. in short, it was full of old, prim people and young, irritating, slutty girls and boys who tried showing off in front of their peers. he couldn't even count how many girls (and boys!) had come up to him, offering him drinks and dances and their pride on a golden plate, trying to get his attention long enough to cause a gossip worthy rumor.

he currently was hiding away in the library, where it was cold and peaceful and nearly silent. he roams through the long aisles of books, attempting to find one to sit and read for the remainder of the insanely boring party. there was a loud thud, making him nearly jump out of his skin. he cautiously turns the corner, peeking around the other side.

there seems to be a blond boy under a pile of large books, cursing up a storm and throwing the books off his slim body. his lip is busted, red blood especially bright against his pale chin. he brings a hand up, delicately touching the cut, then curses some more. liam chuckles at the boy's incessant cussing and anger, eyes widening when the boy's gaze met his.

his eyes were a bright bright blue, with hints of sunshine yellow tinted in the middle. though the color seemed beautifully rare, he couldn't help but think maybe he'd seen them before.

'sorry mate, are you alright?" he asks, walking over to the boy. the boy nods, wiping up some of the blood with his sleeve. 

'yeah, 'm alright,' he grumbles, pushing another book off. 'these books fell on me when i was trying to grab one. were you laughing at me?' liam feels a bit guilty, nodding sheepishly. he reaches a hand out and pulls the boy up, finding he was a few inches shorter than himself.

the stranger laughs, then winces. 'i'd be laughing at myself too, if my lip wasn't hurting so bloody much.' he says, making liam laugh again. 'wait, aren't you the son of the people hosting the party?' he asks, and liam nods.

'yes, but that's not it's cracked up to be, contrary to popular belief.' he replies. 'so i'm hiding out in here. why are you here, if i may ask?' the boy chuckles, wiping his lip again.

'hiding out as well, actually. me mum keeps trying to make me talk to a bunch of girls, and let me tell you, they'd all open their legs faster than a crocodile closing it's mouth to eat a fish.' liam bellows out a laugh. 'they're worse than my mates zayn and louis. sometimes they'll even get with each other, because they're so desperate.' liam vaguely wonders if zayn is a girl or boy, disregarding it as he quits laughing.

'don't worry, i know all about that.' liam chuckles. 'have i met you before?" liam asks, still having the strange sense of familiarity the boy radiated.

'i don't think so, but you do look kind of familiar. i'm niall, by the way' niall states, eyeing up and down liam's body. 'either way, i'd like to get to know you, whether it be again or for the first time.' liam smiles, wishing the same thing.

ix.  
'wake up horan.' niall grumbles, sighing and turning in his foxhole. josh devine kicks at his shoulder, making him jump and curse. 

'go 'way devine, i'm up. that hurt, you fucker.' he complains, rolling his shoulder, listening as it pops. josh just smirks and walks over to the other sleeping soldiers. niall rubs his eyes, blinking rapidly at the fuzzy vietnam sun piercing his gaze. he tugs on his heavy boots, which are caked in mud and grass and remnants of bombs. 

he watches with tired eyes as the other men begin to get up, grunting and cursing and spitting. they all eat out of their packs and niall does the same, allowing himself a piece of bubble gum to tide him over until lunch when he finishes his meager breakfast.

'come on men, let's move out!' first lieutenant liam payne shouts. the men in his group all groan and leave their foxholes, putting their bags and shoes and items back on. niall's just clipping on his mk-40 when he hears louis tomlinson, whom they've nicknamed tommo, begin talking loudly about his girl back home to harry styles.

'i mean, the girls from jersey mate, they'll open up their legs right quick.' his thick alabama accent rings annoyingly in his ears. ' not like you'd know anything about that, right styles?' harry blushes, picking up his helmet and stuffing it over his curls. niall rolls his eyes, hearing zayn malik on the other side of camp to shut his fucking trap, no one cares.

'shut the fuck up, boston!' tommo shouts back, grumbling about zayn and his 'high and mighty' attitude and how much he'd like to kick his ass. niall follows the men as they leave their camp, still groggy from sleep and trying to be alert of their surroundings. they approach a thick jungle. payne stops them all, his square face under the shade of trees and eyes careful.

'alright, i wan't y'all to be careful in here, there's a lot of hidden room for an ambush. right? let's go.' he leads them on, niall close behind, along with styles, malik, and tommo. tommo's chatting with payne and niall rolls his eyes, almost certain tommo's been getting off sometimes with the first lieutenant, forgetting completely about that 'girl back home'. mailk is off in his own world, occasionally glancing at the thick foliage with wary eyes.  
he notices styles is especially quiet, his eyes cast to the ground, his curls drooping. niall walks a bit faster, catching up with the kid from maryland. he nudges his shoulder, grinning at him.

'why so down, soldier?' he asks. harry looks up, his expression surprised.

'oh, erm, nothing.' he mumbles. 'just feeling a bit tired.' niall rolls his eyes.

'bullshit. are you mad about what tommo said? because he's an idiot and we all know it.' harry manages a chuckle, then blushes a bit.

'this is so feminine, but, like, i just want someone to have back for me at home, you know? even if we all know tommo's shagging it up with payne,' niall guffaws. 'he still has people back for him at home, ya know?' niall nods in understanding.

'i know the feeling. well, at least you've got me here until we get back. then hey, you'll have me back home too, i'm only up in virginia.' harry smiles brightly, his eyes twinkling. niall notices something whizz past harry's head and his heart jumps.

someone yells 'grenade!' and the next few moments are a blur.

he remembers the adrenaline, the burning need to protect. he remembers shoving styles out of the way, throwing his body over the small, destructive thing. he hears someone yell 'shit, there's another!' and someone that sounds suspiciously like styles scream 'niall!' and then there's an explosion.

x.  
harry grips his beanie tightly in his hands, the tears he had shed making it wet against his palms. he glances warily at the four other boys standing near him, all nervous looking and eyes red rimmed.

niall, that blond irish kid, is doing this weird bouncing thing, going heel to toe and huffing and biting his lip, as if trying to calm down. liam (he remembers liam because he's got that really nice voice and he's the one who fell down the stairs in the hotel and it was extremely funny) is watching all of them, mahogany eyes flickering to the curtain where the judges waited for them. zain, harry thinks his name is, has his arms crossed, his eyes to the floor.

louis, however, is next to him, talking up a storm. harry wants to be annoyed at louis, but he can't, really. first off, he wasn't talking this much before, and harry thinks maybe when he's nervous, he talks. second, louis' got a really nice voice, so he doesn't really mind all that much. also, louis, for some reason, seems really familiar, like he's met him before. the other boys do as well, and he can't shake the feeling.

'louis.' louis stops, slightly out of breath from all the talking. 'calm down, it's all alright.' he says gently, watching as louis blushes.

'sorry.' he apologizes, looking to the floor.

'i don't mind the talking, don't worry,' harry assures him. 'it's just that you seem kind of nervous, so, yeah.' louis smiles up at him, teeth peeking out and eyes bright, despite being a bit bloodshot from crying.

'thanks, harry.' it's harry's turn to blush as louis wraps his arms around his waist and gives him a hug. harry returns the embrace, his smile growing as louis keeps his arm there, only releasing his waist when they're called onto the stage.

harry has a feeling that maybe they'll be seeing each other again soon, and sure enough, it's sooner than he thinks.


End file.
